Anger of the King
by TheMadMetalhead
Summary: Trevor Slattery was an out of work actor serving a long sentence in prison. But even that was to be ripped from him when he receives a visit from a documentary film maker. Or so he thought. Now something Trevor barely has any comprehension of is about to show him what happens when you impersonate the wrong king. A short story following the events of "All Hail the King" one shot.
1. Chapter 1

Pain.

Dull Pain.

Throbbing pain.

That was all Trevor felt running through his head. A dull and throbbing pain from where he was knocked unconscious. Thoughts and memory hazy. Too much to process right now. Too much to understand.

Where was he? He tried to open his eyes, but saw only darkness. He could feel a blindfold wrapped tightly around his head. He wanted to take it off, but his hands wouldn't move. They were cuffed behind his back. Standing? Yes, he thought. Let's stand. No, sorry, love. His feet were chained to the floor. He could feel vibrations under his feet and heard a constant high pitched whir. A motor, perhaps?

Helicopter.

Something hard and cold pressed against his temple. "Don't move, Slattery". What was that voice? So familiar. That Norriss chap who conducted the "interview". Slattery frowned. He didn't like that man. Not at all. Jackson Norriss, who claimed to be a journalist of some kind, had killed Slattery's butler and warned him of something. What was it? Trevor's head throbbed trying to remember what it was he had no comprehension of.

"… _possibly your portrayal has angered some people. Some of them are very dangerous."_

Trevor's forehead wrinkled. What had he been talking about? Ten rings?

"… _he was a warrior king"_

Who? Someone surviving a long time? He didn't seem to care at the time.

" _and for that sin you will soon suffer horribly with a hole in your body for every ring of our faith"_

Trevor soon started to sweat. Perhaps he started to realize what was happening. But it wasn't that that worried him. It was the fact that he would be reminded of his mistake. And who it was that would show him the error of his ways.


	2. Chapter 2

Trevor could hear the whirring come to a stop and the vibrations under his feet start to lessen. Such a simple thing was so strange to put so much dread into Trevor. The stay of execution was coming to a close.

Slattery could feel the helicopter descend slowly and finally touch down. The man beside him, presumably that knob, Norriss, got up and went outside. Trevor moved his head around trying to position his ear and hear anything he could.

"…that him?"

"Yes. We have broken him out to come before our lord"

"Well done, Nighthawk. You will surely be rewarded this day"

Slattery listened intently. Nighthawk? He didn't understand one bit of what he was listening to. He chuckled to himself, always the kidder and the first to have some fun. And for that, he received a giant painful kick to his ankle. A kick that came from himself. "This is serious" he thought. "Something bad is about to happen and all I can do is make jokes?!"

Footsteps approached. Trevor turned his head in the direction of the approaching figure. By then the helicopter had died completely and Trevor heard only the sound of wind and what he thought was sand blowing against the sides of the aircraft. The approaching figure stepped up into the helicopter.

Trevor waited. He figured the new man would undo his cuffs and take him out. But nothing for the longest time. Finally Trevor heard something.

"False god" the voice spat.

"Sorry, love?" Trevor replied.

In an instant the man was upon Slattery. His hands reached around Trevor's neck and squeezed. Trevor gasped and coughed.

"THERE IS ONLY ONE MANDARIN, DECEIVER!"

As soon as it started it was over. The man who choked Trevor was pulled away and out of the helicopter.

"Raza, no! His life is for our lord to take. Not ours. Guards! Get him out!"

Multiple feet this time rushed up into the helicopter and freed Trevor of his bonds. They pulled him out onto the sand. Trevor's legs buckled and he fell to the ground. Sitting in a helicopter for so long passed out didn't help his motor functions one bit.

The guards pulled him up and walked him a great distance. Trevor felt the ground turn from less of sand to more of brick under his feet. Soon no light bled through his blind fold, only darkness. As he walked, he could hear his footsteps echo off the walls. He was in some sort of hall or large room. That was all he could think.

After a good five minutes of walking, they came to some stairs to which Trevor tripped down onto his face. The men leading him made no effort to stop his fall. They only came to him and lifted him up to his knees.

Silence loomed for a great while and Trevor didn't even want to think what would come next.

The guards removed his cuffs from his hands and the blindfold. Trevor's eyes were almost adjusted to the darkness, but his eyelids were closed for too long. He wasn't able to adjust immediately. Trevor looked around. He was in some sort of miniature pit. Twenty feet in diameter he could guess. With stairs circling around the entirety. Stone pillars were erected above the stairs encircling the small pit with torches mounted to every one of them.

Trevor gazed past the pillars in every direction. Thick darkness came in from behind the pillars. He could only see light in the pit in which he knelt.

A light footfall walked around the pit he was in. It was almost a whisper of a sound, but it was there none the less. He looked toward the sound, not being able to hone in on the sound itself.

And in an instant Trevor heard a voice. A light smooth voice. One that could coo a small child or enchant a mob of mad beasts. But it didn't have that effect on Trevor. No, this voice ran a chill of fear down Trevor's spine.

It spoke.

"Welcome to my home…great Mandarin."


	3. Chapter 3

Trevor was stunned. Mandarin? Were people still calling him that? No, this bloke had to be facetious. Not now. Not after everything he had started to realize.

Trevor looked around the small pit he was in. His eyes darted past the columns in every direction to get an idea of where the voice came from.

"Sorry love, but I must admit. I am not who you think I am."

The light footfalls stopped. _"You are not the great Mandarin? Surely you jest. I have seen your many exploits and victories across the globe. Surely you are him."_

Trevor swallowed hard but continued "No you see that was all Killian's idea. I was sitting back while he did all the work and I shot a few videos for the press, you know?"

" _But if you are not the Mandarin, why did you take his name and claim to be him?"_

Trevor shuddered. "You see, Killian hired me to appear to be the Mandarin while he created his virus and…"

Suddenly Trevor felt a massive impact against his chest and flew backwards against the column behind him. He let out a weak whimper and clutched his chest. It felt like a trolley had been shrunken down and ran full speed against his torso. Trevor opened his eyes and looked forward. He saw a fist protruding from the darkness decorated with two rings. The ring on the index finger glowed slightly.

" _You were saying….Mandarin?"_

Trevor sat motionless gazing upon the ring that glowed. Every breath hurt. Surely every rib was broken now. He could not say anything anymore. He could only stare in horror.

" _Well now. It seems you are at a loss for words. Perhaps I should introduce myself, Trevor."_

A robed figure stepped into the light and down into the pit. He was an Asian man, Chinese in appearance. His hair was long and somewhat wild. He was muscular and adorned scars at every turn. His appearance would suggest that of an old man. But his face and physique said he was young. Perhaps a man in his prime that had seen hell and lived to tell about it. This frightened Trevor. He did not want to be here anymore.

Trevor reached behind him and started to crawl out of the pit. He was half way up when a monstrous growl and hot scolding breath covered his face. Trevor fell back, wincing in pain from his chest still hurting. His eyes grew wide. His jaw dropped. There was no way, no way in hell that he was looking at what he thought he saw. It was a massive head poking out of the darkness that surrounded the pit. It was that of some kind of beast. Scaled and horned. It was….no….it couldn't be a dragon!? The long walking serpent stalked Trevor around the pit, flicking its forked tongue in Trevor's direction.

A gentle laugh came from behind Trevor. _"You must forgive my pet. Fin Fang Foom is not very friendly to those who pretend to be kings."_

Trevor moved around slowly, resting his head against the side of the pit.

"Please!" he pleaded. "I never meant to offend anyone, love. I only wanted to do my job and act! That was it, I was only an actor!"

The man in front of him raised his left hand. The ring on his middle finger glowed violently, sparks and electricity flowed from it. At once a blot of electricity shot forth at Trevor. Trevor screamed in pain as electricity flowed through his body. The man stopped, but his fist did not lower. The ring on his index finger began to glow red. Trevor screamed once again as flames engulfed his body. It was only for a moment, but the searing pain felt like forever. Trevor lay on his side, barely able to breathe. His hair and beard burned off his face.

Rapid footsteps ran to the pit from the doorway. A breathless voice called in.

"My lord!"

The man looked up, his fist still pointed at Trevor. _"What is it?"_

The man Trevor known as Jackson Norriss came in and bowed. "My lord. We have found it!"

The servant ran around the pit, careful to keep clear of Fin Fang Foom. He dropped into the pit and went to his knees holding up a box. The master grabbed it and opened. Inside was a square ring. Simple and golden. _"Spectral…"_ he whispered. _"Very good, Nighthawk. You have served me well this day, bringing me many gifts."_ He took the ring and placed it on the ring finger of his right hand.

He closed his eyes, seeming in pure ecstasy. Now three rings adorned his right and two on his left. The man laughed maniacally. He looked down at Trevor, almost forgetting he was still there.

Trevor looked up at the man through his charred eyelids. Blood trickled out of his mouth and onto the stone floor. Trevor spoke one final time. "Who….are…you…"

The man raised his right hand and made a fist.

" _I am he who never fails."_

The new golden squared ring began to glow…

" _I am the icy fingers of fear that trap your heart."_

Black dots danced around the center of the ring…

" _The decedent of Genghis Khan, himself."_

The dots drew to the center and formed a single circle…

" _I am THE MANDARIN!"_

And with one push, the ring shot out at Trevor. Trevor was in an instant blasted apart leaving no trace that he was ever there. The Mandarin lowered his hand and looked at his servant. _"Nighthawk. Prepare your forces. The time is now that we reveal ourselves to the world."_

Nighthawk bowed. "Where shall we go, great Mandarin?"

The Mandarin cracked an evil smile. _"I believe there is someone I would like to meet in New York. Someone who thinks he has defeated the Mandarin. We go to face….The Iron Man!"_

End


End file.
